Women of the Opera: Antoinette
by storytellers
Summary: I will never allow something like that to happen! Never! Even if I have to constantly beat you over the head to stop you from doing foolish things!" He was quiet for a moment, then he looked down at me. "Promise?" he asked uncertainly. "I promise."


Discalimer: I don't own tPotO and I am making no profit. I do own Anrie and Vivien Benoit but no one's paying me for them either.

A/N: My dear, precious readers, as always PLEASE Read and Review! Use this little button down there and make an author happy. It's so easy! I always review!

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_**Then, Now and Always**_

_Second installment in the Women of the Opera challenge_

My heart was heavy as a piece of lead as I stepped into my room. On the other side of the building, firefighters were now trying to keep under control the flames that were engulfing the Opera Populaire. But the dormitories were far away from the raging inferno.

I knew I had to pack my possessions and leave tonight. I couldn't bear the idea of returning later. I had to get away once and for all.

I hoped my daughter Meg was waiting for me outside... Either that or the stubborn girl was somewhere in the cellars, looking for the Phantom. My blood froze at the thought although I could not determine whether I was only scared of traps and torture chambers or of Erik himself.

There had been a time when I wouldn't dream of being scared of him. But the intelligent, soft-spoken boy I once knew had grown up to be a cold and cruel man.

The adrenaline rush which had sustained me until now was starting to fade and I had to sit down.

How had all of this happened?

Why hadn't I stopped it?

Could I have stopped it?

Erik and I had been friends long ago. Before he drifted away, gradually confining himself to his secret lair. Before I turned from a beloved play partner to his official spokeswoman.

That first night so many years ago when I grabbed his hand, I believed I was saving him. Little did I know that it would take a lot more to save a boy like him. Ultimately, I realized I wasn't up to the task.

For a long while I thought Christine could do it. And although it made me sad that I was the one who had failed, I honestly wished for her to succeed. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted it so much. Even now after all he had done, my heart ached for him.

A noise made my head snap up to look at the door. I froze, sinking in two deep blue eyes, misty with tears. His mask was off but all I could focus on were his eyes.

"Antoinette..." he whispered pleadingly as if he was asking me for help. It had been long years since he had used my first name. I stood up just as he wrung himself on my neck.

"Everything went wrong..."

"I know." I replied, trying to cover my surprise and stroking his hair despite myself. I couldn't shake the irrational feeling that I was holding a little boy and not the rough, unreachable grown man I had come to know. He seemed so vulnerable and I suddenly felt so guilty. "I'm sorry, dear. I failed you."

He drew away and shook his head.

"No, I failed you. You saved my life and how have I repaid you? I used you for my own purposes. I never gave you anything back. It's late for apologies but I wanted to see you one more time. To thank you."

"Oh, Erik... What happened to us?" I whispered.

I shook my head, trying to collect myself.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know. Now that Christine's gone... I was so foolish, Nettie. Why didn't you tell me to stop before it was too late?"

He was searching me with his eyes as if he was expecting me to be the pillar he could lean on. And I didn't feel strong enough to fulfill that part at all.

"I thought if she loved you, you would finally learn to love yourself." I replied honestly. "I was afraid you might get hurt but you were so in love with her, there was no way to convince you to forget her. And most of the time I did believe it could work."

He laughed bitterly, sounding his age for a moment before fixing me once again with a pair of childish blue eyes.

"It was hopeless from the beginning. Who could ever love me?"

Erik usually wore a mask to hide his face. But he had never been good at hiding his emotions. The look on his face was begging me to contradict what he had just said. I didn't find that hard at all.

"I did." I said quietly. "I do. But it has never been enough."

He stared at me wide-eyed, tears streaming down his face. He looked lost.

"Go, Erik." I said firmly. "Go before they find you."

He listened. That was the one last thing I could so for him. Too late I wish I had done more when I had had the chance.

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I woke up in the middle of the night with my hands sweaty and my face wet with tears. The horror of the dream was still clinging to me and it didn't go away even as I fought to calm my breathing and drank in the familiar view of my small dorm room. I lit the lamp and went to stand in front of the mirror. A skinny, plain girl of fourteen stared back at me, pale as a sheet. The image looked as real as I felt but the heavy feeling in my stomach remained. I almost never remembered my dreams when I woke up. Why couldn't I shake off this one? Scared and unable to go back to sleep, I left my room and went to the small chapel of the opera house. I lit a candle and kneeled down. For what exactly I was praying I had no idea.

"Nettie, Nettie..."

A soft, playful voice that seemed to come from the walls. The voice of a boy my age. I smiled. He was here. This reassured me more than anything else. Nothing had changed.

"Erik?" I whispered back, anxious as always not to be heard. "Come out, I need to see you."

He chuckled softly and it seemed to come from everywhere.

"You come and find me."

"Erik, please, I can't do this now!" I pleaded.

He must have taken pity on me because I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I was used to his magic tricks so it didn't startle me. I turned around and there he was. His whole face was covered by an angel mask from a recent production of the opera. I blinked.

The image of a half mask, flawlessly made and pearly white flashed in my mind and I had no idea where it came from. It made me shudder.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I couldn't see his expression behind the mask but his eyes gave away his apprehension. "Are you scared?"

"Not of you!" I replied quickly. "I'm never scared of you. I just had a very bad dream."

"About what?"

"About..." I hesitated for a moment but I needed to tell someone and there was no one else I could tell without risking his life. "About us. We were all grown up. It felt like a very long dream. It felt like a lifetime and I couldn't wake up."

While I told him the whole story, he listened silently and didn't interrupt even once. I started getting worried when he stayed silent even after I had finished. He suddenly stood up and started to run out of the chapel.

"No, Erik, wait!" I grabbed his hand. "It's just a dream!"

"No, it's not! Don't you see? This is exactly what's going to happen. I'll become a monster and you'll be afraid of me."

He pushed me away and disappeared.

"Erik, I'm sure it won't happen like this!" I whispered urgently after him but he was gone. Why was everything so wrong tonight? And how was I supposed to make a fourteen-year-old boy be sensible?

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I hadn't seen Erik for a week. I was sure he was avoiding me. And I felt miserable without him. In the year since I had hidden him in the opera house, he had become my dearest friend, filling my world with music and magic. Even at this young age, it was clear that he was special, brilliant. And the idea of losing his friendship was awful.

I was dancing in a production for the first time this year and I was very excited to finally rehearse on stage with costumes. Erik had acquired the habbit of watching me during rehearsals. But I had the feeling he had stopped coming after I told him about the dream. Today the desire to see him and make it clear that I was not about to put up with his behavior became too great. I waited until everyone was gone from the stage after rehearsal. I stood under the rafters where he liked hiding and looked up, squnting to see better in the shadows.

"Erik?" I called quietly. There was no answer and no movement. "Erik, what are you punishing me for? It's not my fault I had a nightmare!"

It was pointless. He wasn't there. Angry and sad, I sat down in the middle of the stage, hugged my knees and started to cry out of frustration. I was so mad at him and felt guilty at the same time. I should have never told him about the dream. It had obviously made him think about his future and come to the conclusion that it wasn't bright at all.

I have no idea how long I sat there, imagining morbid scenes where Erik grew estranged and we ended up exactly like I had dreamed. Suddenly, I heard a man's voice.

"Little mademoiselle, what is wrong?"

My hair had fallen in my eyes and I had to get it off and wipe away tears before I could finally see who had spoken to me. When my vision cleared, I gasped. It was M. Benoit, the new patron of the opera Populaire. He had come the previous day to watch the rehearsal. I had no idea what he was doing right now on the empty stage but I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, M., I just..." I had no idea what to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, mademoiselle. You have done nothing wrong. My name is Anrie." he offered his hand and helped me stand. "And what is yours."

"Antoinette Giry, M. I'm a ballerina."

"Yes, I think I saw you at yesterday's rehearsal."

I finally managed to recover from my embarrassment enough to ask:

"Are you looking for someone, M? Maybe I could help you."

"No, I'm not looking for anyone but yes, maybe you could help me. I just wanted to come here alone, to... how should I put it? To feel the stage, get into the spirit. It's a little hard to do that while you are being taken on a tour and introduced to people the whole time. I'd like to feel like I belong here."

"Then you need to wear a complicated costume and be a little hysterical all the time." I said with a small smile.

His laughter was pleasant and deep.

"What else can you tell me about the opera?"

His demeanor was friendly and trust-inviting so I told them in my own words about the colorful world I had lived in for the last five years. I told him I had been left an orphan at nine and my official guardian was the ballet mistress, Mme Gillette who didn't seem to like me much. I knew my tongue was sometimes a little too sharp but he seemed to enjoy that. He listened with amusement in his eyes and only interrupted me a few times to ask questions.

"Can I ask one more thing?"

I nodded smiling.

"Why were you crying?"

I looked at my feet, feeling my heart clench again. I had temporarily forgotten about my problem with Erik.

"I... I'm afraid I'm losing a friend, M." I said sadly. "He needs help but he won't let me help him and even if he did, I'm not sure I know how."

"Oh... I understand."

To my surprise, he sounded like he really did.

"Perhaps it's my turn to tell you a story?"

I nodded, intrigued.

"I once knew this girl. She was beautiful and smart and we were in love. Unfortunately, at the time I was a very poor man. I wanted to give her everything and I thought about ways to make money all the time. She kept telling me she loved me for who I was but I didn't listen. Eventually, 'who I was' started to change. As I gathered experience as a businessman and started making more money, I drew farther away from her. There were fewer things we could talk about because all I could think of was how to fix what I wrongly believed was wrong with me. I could see she was unhappy but I was unable to see that money was not the problem and had never been. Eventually, she could take it no more. She told me I loved my business more than I loved her and she left me."

I had rested my chin on my hands and I was listening intently. I have always loved hearing peoples' stories, maybe more than hearing operas. There's something very exciting about things that are real.

"Didn't you try to make her come back?" I asked a little childishly.

"No. I'm sorry to say I was too stubborn for that. But no matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise, I was heart-broken. I spent many years becoming richer and bitterer. I drowned myself in work and continued to push people away. Until one day a very special woman appeared in my life. She was the daughter of one of my business partners and she was very ill at the time. Her father had spent most of his money paying for her treatment and he had asked me for a big loan. I wanted to say no a first but eventually I agreed. I hadn't become that heartless yet. The situation eventually led to me and Vivien, that was her name, being introduced. She managed to grab me from the very beginning. She didn't act like a frail woman with poor health at all! She was remarkably stubborn and she loved life. For some reason I have never been able to understand, she loved me as well. I would like to think that I helped save her life but I'm a lot more certain that she saved mine. She was the one who taught me to see money as a tool and not a purpose and she made me realize I had every opportunity to be happy if I stopped standing in my own way. I'll never forget how she never gave up, never took a step back and not once let me have my way when she was convinced I was wrong. She even slapped me a few times and she was never afraid to speak her mind, no matter how hard and uncaring I appeared to be. So, my advice to you, my little mademoiselle, is to not leave your friend to his own devices. How difficult is he and how much do you love him? If you love him enough, you'll be strong enough to tell him what he's doing wrong. Although you might have to tell him that repeatedly." he winked.

I chuckled with him, feeling my heart just a little lighter.

"Thank you, M. Your story helps a lot."

"If it isn't enough, you are welcome to turn to me for help. I am here most of the day and even sometimes at night. The opera's financial reports are in a bit of a chaos. Please don't hesitate to call me, no matter the situation. When something proves too difficult, asking for assistance is always the right course of action."

I nodded and with a final goodbye, I started making my way back to my room, very glad that I had met him.

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The more I thought about what M. Anrie had said, the more urgent it seemed to find Erik. What if he had left the opera house? No, he wouldn't be that foolish. Where would he go? But then again, did I know him enough?

Finally I decided I couldn't bear to do nothing anymore and when night fell, I took a candle and made my way down to the cellars where I knew he was hiding. I had never gone there before. Erik had told me not to and until now I hadn't had any desire anyway. The darkness and cold scared me. But tonight I was determined nothing would stop me reach Erik.

That was until the staircase beneath my feet disappeared and I fell.

I didn't even have time to scream as I sunk into ice-cold water. I splashed around madly and managed to fight my way to the surface but I had never been taught to swim and I sank again. My limbs seemed to paralyze both from the cold and the realization that I was going to drown. It took all of my strength to rise to the surface once more and keep myself there long enough to fill my lungs with air and scream Erik's name.

When I sank in the water for the third time, I knew I was too tired to attempt to swim anymore. I was in such a complete state of panick that I didn't even realize it when the level of the water started falling until all of it was drained from the chamber. Barely conscious, I coughed up water and blinked towards the light coming from above.

"Nettie! Are you all right?"

The voice had a frightened edge to it. It took me a minute to fully comprehend that it belonged to Erik. He stood at the trap door, holding a candle.

"Nettie?" he shouted again, sounding panicked.

"Y-yes..." I managed.

His sigh of relief was so loud I could hear it from where I lay on the floor far beneath him.

"You're alive! Are you hurt."

"I don't think so." I said trying to stand up and succeeding on the third try. "Can you let me out, please?"

"Hang on, I'm coming for you."

He disappeared for a second and returned with a long rope. He tied one end securely to the mechanism of the trapdoor and climbed down. I hardly waited for his feet to touch the ground before pushing him with all my might. Which, at the moment, wasn't much.

"You made this trap, didn't you? I could have drowned! I could have drowned, Erik! You could have killed your best friend! Do you realize that?" I shouted as I banged my fists on his chest.

"I'm sorry! Nettie, I'm sorry! I never thought... I told you not to... I made it so they couldn't get to me... I didn't know you couldn't swim!" He sounded really scared and guilty now so I stopped trying to beat him. With what little strength I had, I wasn't achieving anything anyway. I decided to try a woman's approach instead and wrapped my arms around him. He surprised me completely by actually starting to cry.

"Nettie, I'm sorry. I would have never forgiven myself if anything had happened to you. Why? Why did you come down here?"

"You disappeared. I was worried. I wanted to make sure you knew that dream meant nothing. I will never allow something like that to happen! Never! Even if I have to constantly beat you over the head to stop you from doing foolish things!"

He was quiet for a moment, then he looked down at me.

"Promise?" he asked uncertainly.

"I promise." I said firmly. looking up at him.

My, had he grown in one year. I barely reached his chin.

He thought for a second and smiled.

"All right. Let's get out of here."

He was a strong boy and I wasn't heavy but it was still a hard task for him to climb back up the rope with me. When we reached the edge, he pushed me up first. I turned around to give him a hand.

And that's when one of those accidents happened that you can never predict. Something in the mechanism clicked and the trap door closed. I heard Erik's surprised shout and then a dull thud down below. I stood frozen for five seconds. And then I screamed.

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All I knew was that I had to find help and fast. But who could I trust to not betray Erik? My brain felt completely paralyzed but whatever had taken its place seemed to be moving my feet trough the corridors until I found myself in front of the manager's office. There was light under the door. I stood uncertain for a while but as I felt the seconds ticking away and knew my friend could be dying, I realized I had no choice. I ventured into the room.

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The carriage was threading carefully through the streets of Paris, taking care not to shake too much. I sat on one side of it with Erik's head on my knees. He was still unconscious and the doctor had said all there was to do was wait for him to wake up. On the other side sat Anrie. He listened with a grim expression as I told the story of my friend's life, trying to put together the few facts Erik had let slip in front of me.

His father had ran away.

His mother had hated and feared him.

He never went outside so he learned to play by himself drawing and making his own toys.

His mother had given him to the gypsies when they passed through town and he had been treated as an animal and showed off as a freak up until the moment I had seen him kill his master and taken him with me.

"Please, don't give him to the police, M! They'll hang him!"

I had repeated this at least a hundred times since I'd run into the manager's office to ask for help. Anrie shook his head.

"I have no such intention, my dear, calm down. Your friend is safe. Poor child..."

I looked down at Erik's distorted face. We had removed the mask, of course. Anrie had flinched at the sight but nothing more.

"You don't believe he's the devil's child, do you, M?"

He shook his head with a sad smile.

"You have to be more than simple to believe that human beauty and ugliness have anything to do with coming from heaven or hell."

As if to prove to me he wasn't afraid, he reached over and stroked the boy's hair. "And you say he's talented?"

"Very talented, M! If you could only hear him sing. He already knows at least three operas by heart. he draws beautifully. He's interested in architecture."

Anrie nodded.

"That trap alone is proof that he has a lot of intelligence, even if it's misguided. If there is someone to point him in the right direction, I'm sure he can make a remarkable man."

My heart leapt at those words and at the thought that had suddenly appeared in my head? Was it be possible?

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One of the happiest moments in my life was when I met Anrie's wife. She was exactly as I had imagined her, dark-haired with lively blue eyes, tall and slender. Even if she had been seriously ill at a younger age, she looked healthy and strong now and when she smiled, the whole room lit up. She didn't even wait for her husband to finish explaining what was going on. As soon as she saw a child in need of taking care of, she was off to work. By the time Anrie had ended his explanantion, Erik was already in bed and Vivien WWW was striding along the room, letting out a stream of words some of which were on the verge of not being very lady-like. But they were directed at everyone who had dared harm an unfortunate child, so I couldn't care less for propriety.

"As if having a physical flaw like this wouldn't make him miserable enough! But no, society has to torture children because they were unfortunate enough to be born to simple, foolish and cruel parents. Human beings are pigs!"

I saw Anrie try to hide an amused smile at his wife's antiques as he looked at her lovingly. I understood him completely. Right then, I felt I loved her, too.

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That same night I stayed at the Benoits' house to make sure Erik was all right. He was running a fever which probably didn't have anything to do with the fall. I guessed he had gotten ill from sitting in damp and cold places all the time. The hit to the head had just weakened him. Vivien had been worried enough to call the doctor again but he had said the fever wasn't life-threatening unless it became higher. His bigger concern was if Erik had sustained any damage to his brain. The idea was unthinkable to me. Erik's brain was all he had, his main weapon and defense against the world and against his own demons. I sat and prayed that when he woke up he would be the same boy I knew.

He did wake up that night but he was only half-conscious. I tried to tell him he was safe and he shouldn't worry but I was more occupied with trying to determine if his mind was all right. I couldn't be sure but it seemed that he understood most of what was going on and only the fever interfered with him being completely aware. After I had somewhat relieved my fears, there was one more thing I had to do that I thought was important.

"Erik," I leaned towards him. "answer this one question and I'll let you sleep. Is there a way I can get to your lair safely? Please, I really need to know."

He looked at me confused for a moment before answering.

"In the prima's dressing room... There's a door behind a piece of tapestry... Was built for an escape route... It's safe."

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I couldn't believe what I was doing. I had just managed, with a lot of difficulty to persuade Mme Gillette to let me out of rehearsal today with the excuse that my stomach hurt terribly and I couldn't dance. While everyone was on stage, I slipped quietly into the prima's dressing room. My heart hammered in my chest with the fear of being caught. I would probably be accused of trying to steal something and thrown out of the opera. Still, I quickly walked along the wall, tapping it with my fingers. I stopped when one of the knocks sounded different.

The passage was hidden well but I knew what I was looking for. I pushed hard and the wall gave way to reveal a dark stone corridor. Wasting no time, I lit the candle I had taken with me and ventured inside.

The corridor was long, then there were stone steps, then another corridor that seemed to go deeper into the ground and suddenly I stepped in water. The rest of the corridor was flooded but I noticed right away a small boat. It appeared that Erik himself had made it from old boards. I stared at it in fear. I wasn't sure it would hold me. And if I fell in the water, I would drown for sure this time with no one to save me. My fear decreased when I noticed an wooden poll in the boat. It wasn't a boat. It was a gondola. The underground lake was probably not deep enough for me to drown in it.

Still afraid but determined, I got into the gondola and carefully made my way to Erik's home.

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"Please, take these, M. and keep them safe. They're Erik's.

The manager looked down at me in surprise. I was handing him a pile of drawings and a few music sheets. I myself had been surprised to see those at first. Erik was learning how to write notes at a tremendous speed. On top of the sheets and drawings sat a music box with an almost finished monkey sitting on the lid. M. Anrie took everything from my hands and sat it on his desk, examining it curiously. He turned the key of the music box and a melody filled the room.

I had recognized it immediately when I myself had heard it down in Erik's lair. Erik sang this all the time. And I had found that he had finally managed to put it down on paper. I took one of the sheets and showed it to M. Anrie. He studied it with amazement as the song began playing for the second time.

"Masquerade," he sang softly, reading from the sheet. "paper faces on parade, Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you... What a truly remarkable child!"

I let my hair fall on my face to hide my smile. That was the first time I felt sure that Erik's future would be a lot brighter than he had feared.

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Ten years had past. I was just returning from a tour around Europe with Erik, Vivien and Anrie and their older son Ethien. When the Benoits had adopted Erik they had not only changed his life but mine too. Though Mme Gillette had been my official guardian until the age of 18, I felt I was a happy and welcome part of the manager's family. And I was about to become a legal part of it too. Erik had proposed to me in Italy. We were to be married after the premiere of his first opera. It was to be staged in the opera Populaire where I was now a prima ballerina.

The night of my return to Paris I lay in the bed in my old dorm room for the first time in two months, clutching Erik's ring in my hand, and thought life could not be happier. I closed my eyes with a smile.

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When I woke up, my neck was stiff and I realized I had been sleeping in a chair. How had that happened? I was sure I had fallen asleep on the bed. And the light was on although I remembered it had been dark before. I rubbed at my eyes tiredly and glanced at the mirror.

I almost fell off the chair. A forty-year-old version of myself was reflected there. Fear gripped my heart. No. No, it couldn't all have been a dream! I felt tears burn my eyes. The murders, the fire... it couldn't be real!

"Nettie?" I turned around.

The forty-year-old Erik was standing at the doorway, dressed in a dark suit, wearing half a mask and a concerned expression. "Are you all right? You didn't come back and I got worried. The new girl is waiting for you on stage. I left Christine and Vivien with her. They seem to be getting along famously. Girls this age usually do. She looks a little younger than Christine but a little older than Vivien."

My heart fluttered as my confused mind became putting together the pieces of the puzzle. Everything was all right. I remembered now. Erik was my husband. He had taken over the opera since his parents were now very old. Vivien was our daughter, named after Erik's adopted mother. And he had a strictly fatherly relationship with young Christine Daae whom we had taken in after her father's death. He was teaching her and Vivien to sing and play instruments and they were both a little too preoccupied for ballet. I felt a little left out, not having a protégé of my own. There was only one thing about my nightmare I wished was true. The daughter I had dreamed of having, Meg. I loved Vivien and Christine with all the love in the world but somehow I missed the blonde girl from my dream. My mind had formed her so fully that sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could see her dancing.

That reminded me I had come to this room to prepare it for a new ballerina who had lost her job in Lion and had asked for a place here. I hadn't seen the girl dance yet but I had promised to give her a place to stay for a few days at the very least. She was an orphan and had nowhere else to go.

I must have sat down for a moment and fallen asleep on the chair. Preparations for the new premiere were exhausting. Erik had been seriously worried about me the last few days. No doubt that was the reason I was so confused as to where and when I was.

"Are you all right?" he asked again.

"Yes." I smiled. "I just had a good dream about a very bad dream. Well, I guess, it wasn't as much a dream as a long walk down memory lane..."

He instantly knew what I was talking about and smiled. The Erik I knew smiled a lot.

"The bad dream part isn't true."

I stood up and kissed him.

"No. But, fortunately, the good dream part is. Come on, let's not keep the girl waiting any more."

But when we reached the stage and I stopped in my tracks. A delicate blonde angel was dancing to the sound of Vivien playing the flute and Christine the violin. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"She's a vision." I whispered.

"She's very good." Erik agreed but he couldn't grasp the full meaning of my words.

"What is your name dear?" I asked when the music stopped, my voice a little choked .

All three girls turned to me a little startled. They hadn't noticed us.

"Marguerite, madam." the blonde answered.

"Welcome home, Meg." I said.

Erik and I had always wanted three daughters.

_**Fin**_

A/N: Just to remind you... Review, pleeeease!


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